


Firsts

by bestGuesses, leangreencastielmachine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Couch Cuddles, Cowboy Hats, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Movie Night, Post-Season/Series Finale, Soft Castiel (Supernatural), Soft Dean Winchester, after chuck dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23839501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestGuesses/pseuds/bestGuesses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/leangreencastielmachine/pseuds/leangreencastielmachine
Summary: Chuck has been dead for a year. All is well
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! i know its been a while since i posted, quarantine hasn't really changed my writing speed like i hoped it would. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this! i wrote this pretty quick but i jam packed it with fluff so. hopefully this will lift your mood or something!

“Seriously?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Dean grinned, holding up two cowboy hats. After their latest hunt, a simple salt and burn that wasn’t too far, Dean suggested he and Cas could have a movie night. Cas was not, however, expecting the cowboy hats.

  
“Why do we need hats to watch a Western?”

“To get into the mood! C’mon, you know you wanna get in the mood,” Dean waggled his eyebrows. Cas rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t, I’ll be sad,” Dean added.

“You’re 40 years old.”

“You’re 40 bajillion years old.”

“A bajillion isn’t a measurement of time.”

“Shut up,” Dean said. “C’mon, please?”

Cas looked at the hat and back at Dean, grumbling as he grabbed it. “Fine.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean grinned, tossing his own hat on. Cas reluctantly followed, and Dean gave him a look.

“You have that sparkle in your eyes,” Cas stated. “You want something else.”

“Maybe,” Dean smirked.

“What?”

“Give me a yeehaw.”

“ _ Why? _ ”

“C’mon, just… yeehaw!”

“Is this a fetish?”

Dean spluttered. Cas raised a brow.

“No! It’s… please? And then we can watch the movie.”

Cas sighed. He was a celestial being, older than the planet; he could smite an entire country if he really wanted to, and he still couldn’t say no to Dean. Well, he could, but not with small stuff. With the exhaustion of a dying star, he looked Dean in the eye. There was a moment of silence and a hopeful twinkle in Dean’s look.

“Yeehaw.”

“Hell yeah! Yeehaw!” Dean laughed. Cas was sure he’d never understand the level of unfiltered joy Dean got from such minuscule things, but he found that it didn’t matter if he understood if he could make Dean smile. He deserved to smile more.

“C’mon, stop zoning out. Let’s go to the couch. Get comfy, you’re not watching a movie in slacks. You can borrow my PJs if you want.”

“Are you sure?”   
  
“Get comfy. C’mon, I’ll be waiting. I’ll have the movie ready, I don’t wanna see you until you look slumber party certified.”

Cas huffed, “Alright,” he said before going upstairs. He brushed his fingers along the bunker walls, glad to be home. Jack and Sam were off doing their own thing, and Cas always appreciated he and Dean’s time together. He liked knowing he could make Dean smile.

Cas dug through his closet, finding mostly flannel and old t-shirts. Dean’s wardrobe was simple, most hues of reds and browns and blacks. The cheap FBI suits were stashed into the back of Dean’s closet, along with a few of the other uniforms they’d all worn to get extra intel on cases. Cas eventually settled on an old Led Zeppelin tee, worn and well-loved. He made sure to put the cowboy hat back on after he pulled the shirt over his head. He shuffled through the drawers, finding the stupid pair of hot dog pants that Dean loved so much and decided to wear those too. Content with his wardrobe change, he neatly folded his own clothes and decided to set them down on Dean’s dresser. He could pick them back up before he went to bed.

“Cas! I’m getting lonely down here!” Dean called from down the hall, “If you don’t hurry your ass, I’m gonna give you a cold cushion!”

Cas laughed to himself. He didn’t mind that nobody else heard, he liked his own little moments. Knowing that Dean would only complain more the longer he waited, he set off to the couch.

“Hey! You look… you look good,” Dean said after a moment. He had a small smile tugging one half of his mouth, his long legs taking up half of the couch. Cas raised a brow.

“You hesitated.”

“I meant it. C’mon, sit down,” Dean said, turning so the couch was open. Cas took his seat, keeping a respectful distance between them. He wanted to close that distance more than anything, wrap an arm around Dean’s shoulders and maybe knock that stupid cowboy hat to the side. Dean would probably complain, but he’d lean back against Cas and in that moment, everything would be okay. Maybe they’d -

“Heyo, space ranger. Get your head out of the clouds, I can’t have you daydreaming through the entire movie!”

“My apologies,” Cas responded, averting his gaze back to the TV. Neither of them mentioned how Cas had stared at him.

“Get comfy, we’re in for a marathon night,” he grinned.

Cas read the title.

“Tombstone? Again?”

“It’s a classic. And it’s not the only one we’re gonna watch tonight,” Dean smirked. Cas was sure he’d seen it a hundred times, just because Dean always insisted. Cas didn’t mind, either. He’d watch it a hundred more as long as it made Dean happy. They sat back and watched the movie, although Cas couldn’t keep his mind off of Dean. Dean, who was smiling and leaning against the armrest of the couch and still as perfect and perfectly flawed as the day Cas had dragged him out of Hell.

“You’re staring again, buddy,” Dean said, mirthful as ever despite Cas’ inability to actually stay focused on the movie. Cas huffed in response, too comfy to use his actual words. He looked back right at the correct time. Dean was practically vibrating with excitement, so Cas gave in. He looked over at Dean, and with impeccable timing as ever, he tipped his hat.

“ _ I’m your huckleberry, _ ” he said in sync with the screen. Dean looked at him, getting that same stupid beaming smile as he did every time he quoted the movie, eyes crinkled and freckled cheeks raised as he laughed, letting himself lean a little closer than he normally did. Cas was already back to watching the movie, although the small smirk on his face was unmistakable.

“You’re as much of a nerd for Westerns as I am at this point,” Dean smiled. Cas shrugged.

“You’ve converted me,” Cas responded. Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder, rolling his eyes playfully. Neither of them mentioned it when he didn’t move it for the rest of the movie. Even as the credits rolled, Dean seemed to hesitate.

“We’re going to watch more movies, right?” Cas asked. Dean nodded.

“Hatchet Man,” he grinned.

“Weren’t you on a hunt where the ghost  _ became _ hatchet man… two years ago?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled.

“Yes, shut up. Let’s watch it. You haven’t seen it, right?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then get comfy, because we’re in for a wild ride,” Dean smiled. Cas sat back and relaxed, he had a feeling he’d be watching movies for a while. They didn’t make it through much of the movie before Dean’s constant flinching became concerning.

“Dean, we can watch another movie.”

“I salted and burned hatchet man, I can live through watching him on a sc- oh  _ FUCK _ !” he jumped, his cowboy hat falling lopsided after a particularly bad jumpscare. Cas sighed, reaching out to adjust it before scooting closer and leaning forward.

“Hide behind me,” Cas said simply.

“ _ What?” _

“I can block your view of the screen if the movie is too scary at any point. Go ahead,” Cas said. Dean looked at him hesitantly. Cas simply grabbed him by the arm, dragging him closer. The sides of their thighs were touching, and Cas ached to lean into the warmth and just hold Dean close. Still, after a decade of staying with the Winchesters, he’d learned a basic idea of human boundaries. He was sure he was crossing one, expecting Dean to cut their marathon session short until he felt a hand on his arm. Cas smiled a bit.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said quietly.

“Of course, Dean,” he responded, going back to watching the movie. Dean inched closer and closer with each scare, hiding behind his shoulder or nuzzling into the crook of Cas’ neck a little more than necessary. Cas didn’t mind. He could only take so much of Dean’s inching and hesitant touches before he gave in, wrapping his arms around Dean and curling up. Dean was warm and he still smelled like his shampoo and beer, and Cas indulged. He leaned in a little closer, ignoring how Dean’s cowboy hat tumbled off of his hair and left the spikey tufts messy. He let Dean rest his head on his shoulder, running his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, feeling Dean practically melt under his touch. Cas knew Dean wasn’t used to soft touches, but he hadn’t quite expected Dean to mold like putty.

He certainly didn’t mind.

Cas held Dean close, squeezing him reassuringly after every scare and holding him well throughout the end of the first movie. Dean didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, only reaching out to grab the remote and play the next movie. He immediately leaned back into Cas’ touch, warm and soft in his arms. 

Dean was a little more active through the second movie. After a particularly gory scene, he placed a hand on Cas’ neck and hid his face in his shoulder. It felt strange to have Dean’s hand on his neck, on such a vulnerable part of him. He wasn’t choking or clawing, just gently brushing his thumb in little circles right under Cas’ ear. Dean clung closer until he was further in Cas’ lap than he was on the couch. His pants were tickling Cas’ arm, but he was too happy to care.

By the third movie, Dean had taken residency on Cas’ thighs, holding onto him tightly. Their faces were close, Dean’s cheek smushing against the side of his head, but Cas didn’t care. He couldn’t focus on the movie, no matter how hard he tried. Dean was alive, cuddling him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. When the third movie rolled the credits, they sat in silence for a prolonged moment, just enjoying each other’s company.

“There’s only 3,” Dean eventually stated. Cas hummed.

“What should we do now, then?” he asked. Dean hesitated, slowly moving away from Cas. He sighed, he knew it would end, but he wanted the moment to last longer. He could feel the lingering warmth from Dean’s body, shutting his eyes until that warmth returned.

“Dean, what are you-”

“Doing what I should’ve done a long time ago,” he said. Cas had lived for eons, he’d seen the first fish crawl out of the sea, and the first wisp of flame curl up in front of the early human, the first roll of the wheel-

And yet, nothing could have prepared him for the first time Dean kissed him. It was long. Slow. A good slow, though. With Dean’s lips against his, Dean’s light stubble lightly scratching his hand as Cas cupped his cheek and pulled him in deeper, he decided it was the best first of them all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments and kudos are greatly appreciated (im sorry if i dont respond to your comment, i usually try to!).  
> if you want to chat with me, you can follow me on twitter [here!](https://twitter.com/keepme_guessing)  
> follow leangreencastielmachine [here!](https://twitter.com/deansnovakk)  
> 


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